Page 25 of Alpha Unbound

I think about the way her eyes went dark when I leaned in. The way she gasped when I pressed too close. It wasn’t just fear—it was betrayal. And I hate I put it there. I’m supposed to protect her, not back her into corners.

The next day, I head to the bookstore. Elena’s there early, sorting supplies behind the counter. She looks up when I walk in, arching a brow.

“Morning, Sheriff.”

“Elena.”

“You look like someone chewed you up and spit you out.”

I lean against the counter. “Something like that.”

She finishes scribbling on a clipboard and glances up, the faint scent of aged paper and ink lingering in the air, mixing with the comforting bitterness of strong coffee brewing somewhere inthe back. The early morning hush settles over the bookstore like a blanket, broken only by the distant rustle of pages and the soft creak of worn floorboards. “You here for a good book, a cup of coffee or emotional triage?”

“Neither. Just checking in. What do you know about Luke, Kate's brother? No one ever speaks of him.”

Elena wasn’t just a bookstore owner—she was the kind of woman who knew everyone’s secrets five minutes before they did. If something stirred in the Hollow, odds were Elena already had it cataloged by scent, source, and shadow.

If Luke had been digging into anything strange, she’d have noticed. Hell, she probably knew more than the pack elders. And unlike them, she didn’t posture. She watched. And remembered.

“Luke?” Her pen pauses mid-stroke. “Yeah, he sort of went missing. I spoke to him a few times. He was one of those souls who watched everything and said little. Quiet. Smart. Dug deep into things most folks wouldn’t bother thinking about. Thought too much, maybe for his own good. But he was always kind. Always curious; perhaps too curious.”

"You think something happened to him?” I ask.

She nodded. "The McKinleys keep mostly to themselves, but no one, including Kate, has talked about him in ages.”

"Dead?"

"Most likely. Moonshining can be a lethal business. If he'd just gone, I don't think he'd have left Kate behind. They were close, and he was always protective of her."

“Then maybe it’s time I started asking the questions.”

Elena doesn’t push. Just gives a slow nod like she knew this moment was coming. “Be careful Hudson. The other moonshiners won't be the only ones who don't take kindly to someone poking around. The McKinleys aren't going to like it either."

"That isn't going to stop me. I can handle the moonshiners, the McKinleys, and the fallout. Tell me what you know... what others don't."

She nods again.

"He used to come in with old books—real obscure stuff, half of it hand-bound. He’d ask questions about shifter lore and old pack territories that even the elders barely remember. Things others don’t pay attention to, or pretend not to. I had the feeling he was looking for something specific, not just out of curiosity—like he was following a trail. Connecting dots no one else bothered to see."

“What kind of something?”

She shrugs. “Answers. Secrets. He had that look about him—the kind that doesn’t end well around here.”

When I returned to the truck, Elena’s words continued to loop in my mind like a snare. I’m so wrapped up I nearly overlook the thing I’ve trained my eyes to catch—a flicker of wrong, the shimmer of a threat, but then I see it—it's hard to miss.

Someone scratched the message into the driver’s side door, rough and deliberate.

THE HOLLOW REMEMBERS.

The letters are jagged, carved down to the metal. Deliberate. Not just a warning—an accusation. A message etched with intent, with rage, maybe even grief. Whoever left it wanted me to feel it like a brand. And I do. It hums through me like a threat waiting to rise, just like it did when the mountain watched from the tree line and the Hollow held its breath. Like the land itself is keeping score, and I just made the list. The Hollow doesn’t forget. And neither, apparently, do the ones who walk its shadows.

I stare at it a long time, long enough for the cold to seep into my bones and the sting of the words to sink deep and stay. Myreflection warps in the scratched paint, distorted by the message and everything it implies. I take a breath—steady, sharp—and open the door. The hinges creak, the sound swallowed by the morning quiet. I climb in and let the silence sit heavy and thick around me, like fog curling low over the forest floor. But I don’t flinch.

But the wolf inside me is wide awake. And he will not rest until he drags the truth from the soil, until every secret rooted in this hollow is unearthed and exposed—claw by claw, lie by lie.

CHAPTER 10

KATE

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